


Sins of the innocent

by Alayna_schlemmer



Series: Sins of the Innocent [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, BBC Merlin, Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Angest, Betrayal, Comfort, Drama, Fluff, Lies, M/M, Post-Betrayal, Secrets, Slow Burn, Truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-10 12:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alayna_schlemmer/pseuds/Alayna_schlemmer
Summary: Upon betraying Arthur at the battle of Cameln, Merlin Emrys is sentenced to a living death. He shall precede at the castle of Arthur’s seat and watch and listen every day to those he betrayed. He would rather their abuse then their ignorance. But that is the price he must pay for he cannot tell them the real reason he was with Morgana that day- not yet.  When he is thrown together with Arthur the two must work together and confront not only their feelings, but Merlin’s betrayal or all of Albion will fall.





	1. One

The wind was sour. Fear was leaking like a blistered wound from the pores of the men standing on the crest of the battle field, but they were too proud to let it show. Gripping their swords like children gripping onto their mother’s skirts they looked upon their adversaries. Three scores of men deep and lining the mountain’s long cresting craigs they were stomping their feet to a unheard battle chant. A flag with a raven flapped in the wind looking down at the proud yellow lion. The hunter had thus become the prey. 

A stallion cut through the ranks and the men parted. Prancing with the scent of war in its nostrils. The black eyes rolling into white abyss. The man pulled the reins to the right hard making the horse bank and turn in a tight circle. He stopped in from of his men and walked up and down the line meting eye to eye. He was not above him men. They were the dependent keeping his nation, his kingdom alive. Each men loyalty was not to be question. His honor pure and heart was brave as the lion on the flag which they flew. 

The minds of the men, Arthur Pendragon, King of the British Isle, son of the eagle, once and future king, knew was as much of a battle field then what they were about to charge on. As with war they knew there was always a fair chance the cruel mistress that was fate would take them in her arms and bid them a long dark slumber. Their minds flashed with one last mental goodbye to love ones and friends. They found they could not look at each other as they were too afraid their emotions would run ramped. Breathing in as one, they turned their ear to their king. 

“Last night I prayed to God. I asked of him: O merciful God, I have such need of Your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need. Deliver them from their trials ahead and I will pay You a thousand fold with any sacrifice You ask of me. And if in Your wisdom, You should determine that sacrifice must be my life for theirs; so that they can once again taste the freedom that is so long been denied to them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. I ask no more than that.” 

We go today to fight not just an enemy but an enemy with the kingdom’s blood running through her veins, My blood. My father’s blood. My grandfather’s blood. She, my sister did not only betray me, she betrayed all my brothers and theirs and that I cannot forgive. We may be up against a weapon we do not know how to fight against but these men,” Arthur swept his arm behind him taking in the men who were now silently quite, they are flesh and blood as we are. They die as we die. I only ask you stand and fight until you can stand and fight no more. The highest honor will be bestowed upon you. My power will be yours to share. Now, we FIGHT!”

As if both fronts heard a silent bellow from a horn, they rode to meet each other.  
Swords clang against swords. Bows rained down arrows from the heaves. Magic hummed and sang, ensnarling and captivating. Men fell and killed. Brother watched brother die. They were like tiny ants trying to walk all over each other but knocking each other off the line. Arthur was goaded into the crowed his eyes seeking. In the back of his mind he screamed at the terror around him, his heart ache not only for his men but those of Morgana’s as well. All the while his thought focused on one thing. It was not the battle. It was not how he would have to kill his own blood if the fates so happen to align. It was, where was Merlin?

He had not seen Merlin since the morning before. The tall and lanky servant had come into the tent by Arthur’s bid. Arthur had given him the dragon pendent. Arthur had won a battle that morning. A personal battle. He had decided to take a fool’s chance and come clean. He manned up and he told Merlin how he felt. It was with great joy when Merlin took the Pendragon family crest to wear. The king had searched out his servant but to no prevail. He had ridden off without so much as an ado. Now, Arthur hoped, he would be there to tell him hello. 

Arthur heard a crow’s cry and looked up. He had somehow become separated from the battle. Oh, he was very much still surrounded by clashing of swords and the ripe smell of blood, but it was as if he was in his own little pocket of life. The air was calm and cool. The land was calm and not shaking from thousands of foot falls. It was peaceful to say the least. 

“Well met little brother of mine,” a silky and sultry voice stepped out from behind the tree to Arthur left.  
Morgana was very much changed. Where once was beauty was now ragged and haggard looking. She had changed from a lushes, thin, healthy women to no more than a sickly child. Her body hunched over itself and her hair was thin and straw-like. Her dress was in tatters as if ripped by wrath like claws. Mud splashed on her face. Her eyes were fevered. 

“Morgana, “Arthur choked out, “call off your men. We do not have to do this.”

“Oh but we do, we do. 

Arthur put his hand on his sword. He did not want to use it. It was clear he was tormented by the very thought. Around him Arthur could see and hear men dying, bleeding, yelling, and fighting. He saw more of Morgana’s men coming down the west hill. Her army doubling. His men were outnumbered. It was an ambush. Fear stabbed him in the gut. It twisted and pulled his insides. It left him feeling hot and cold at once. It was as if time itself was moving fast but agonizing slow. 

Arthur’s mind was blanking and filled with bleary broken thoughts. He would have to do something. No- he knew what needed to be done. It was in his eyes, his stance. He would have to end it all here. Right now.

“Why?” was all he asked. 

“Because this, all you have, is mine by right. You took it from me. You and Uther.” Morgana spat. “You betrayed me.”

“I never wanted to. I had no choice. I thought if father knew about your magic-“

“I am going to defeat your men today, Arthur Pendragon. I am going to kill you and take what is rightfully mine. But first, I want you to feel the same pain I did, the same heart break and despair I felt when Father came into my chambers and hauled me off to the dungeon for being no more then who I am.”  
Arthur went to move, but Morgan thrusted out her hands and Arthur remained frozen. In fact every one of Arthur’s men froze. All eyes turned to Morgana. “Mordred come.”

Morgana smiled at Arthur. It was not a nice smile but one full of malice. “Do you know how we were able to take you by surprise? Do you know how I and my men were able to get the upper hand?”

Mordred came with another. Their hands clasped behind them. Their head bowed. Mordred knocked them on their knees. Morgana flicked her hand and Mordred took a step back. The person looked up at Arthur and Arthur felt his heart leap.

“What did you do?” he shouted and tried to struggle against the magic. He tried to reach Merlin who was looking anywhere but him. 

“I did not do nothing. Merlin came on his own free will. He is not my prisoner.”

“NO. Merlin- no”

Merlin looked up. He paused. He swallowed. He spoke. “It is true. I came to Morgana on my own. I knew of your plans and told her them.”

“Why,” Arthur creaked out, “why?”

Merlin only looked at him. Arthur saw something flash in his eyes. Something he could not discern. The raven haired man did not say anything but, “I had to.”

It was then that everything happened at once. An arrow hit Morgana in the shoulder. A shout came from the north. A banner of a deer on a white field crested the horizon. Queen Anne’s forces had arrived. All Arthur could do was stare, numb as he was. 

In the end, Arthur and Anne’s men had won. Morgana and her men had lost. 

The battlefield lay quiet, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. From both sides corpses lay among the rugged earth. The sun still shone and the wind still blew, but somewhere mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters waited in vain. These men that were once boys who played in the yard with sticks and laughed at each other's silly tales were now meat for the birds. Their eyes were as immobile as their limbs. Their souls had long departed to the celestial planes to walk with the ancestors. The battle was over, the heroes had won. 

Arthur had come to his sense and ordered his men to take Morgana and Mordred captive and lead them to war camp. He listed to Morgana’s insane laughter long after she was carried away. 

“Sire,” Leon said coming up behind Arthur. His voice was hoarse and unsure, but then again how would it be, “What of…Merlin.”

Arthur looked back at Merlin. Took in his busted lip he had finally kissed the night before, his high checks, his blue eyes. He walked over to him and stood before him. 

“Do you deny what Morgana said, Merlin.”

Merlin finally spoke, “No, sire. I did help her.”

The Knights of the Round Table shouted and clambered. Calling Merlin a liar. That Morgan bewitched him. 

“She did not. I am of my own free will.”

Arthur then unleashed his sword. “You betrayed your king and your kingdom. You helped the enemy why should I not run you through where you stand.”

There was no talk of how could you. No cries of heartbreak. It was as it was. 

Merlin looked up at Arthur’s face, “I did not want to. I came willing. I cannot explain my self-right now or my actions, but know this. I did not want to betray you, my king.”

“You were my friend! Now you're nothing more than a mere slither of worthlessness. You say you did not mean to betray me? That you cannot tell me? I trusted you! I cared for you! I prayed to the gods that you remained healthy, happy, and strong. And this is how you repay me!” Arthur shouted. He took a breath and calmed. “Death would be too just of a punishment for your crimes. From this day forward you shall be made to live a living death. You will see firsthand the seed of your betrayal. You shall hear the voices of the ones you betrayed. We may have won today, but you have destroyed all this kingdom is and for that there is a cost. You will not be my servant or friend from now until the end of your time. My men will not be your friends. You shall be alone.”

Merlin felt tears in his eyes, “One day I will explain. One day you should know why I did what I did. All of you will, but until then I accept your will and word. Please, Arthur only know I do care. For you and this kingdom. I love you, “there were a muttered gasp and yells, “ 

Arthur turned and walked away.

Merlin awoke. It was the dream again. No. Not just a dream but a memory. Knees to his chest and breath caught in his throat, he squinted at the sunlight that was pouring into the window. It was becoming a new day. He would be collected from his cell soon. He had begun to think of it as his own tiny house. Of course, it was not has homey as the room he had once called his own. But then again nothing was once how it was. 

After he would be collected he would be taken to serve in the hall. There he would hear and see the knights- his old friends. They would ignore him, but some, the lesser known ones would taunt and sometimes make Merlin trip. It was the ignorance that caused Merlin’s heart to break. He then would be taken to Guais and from there, well, it really was up in the air. Nothing had really changed much. He was still a servant. He was just a betrayer and forced to live every day in remembrance of that. He wonderd if he would see Arthur. Of course he’s seen him in the year he had been placed under kingdom bond but then it was never really seeing. He wanted to look him in the eyes. Hear his voice directed at Merlin. But Arthur didn’t want to see him no more then he wanted to see his sister who was imprisoned in the cells below Merlin. 

Merlin felt a tear drop from his nose. Rolling up his tunic he looked at his forearm. No one, save Guias and Gwen had seen the mark. It was as if the veins under his skin and broken free. They were black and blue and purple. Imbedded in the center was a stone. The reason he was more or less in this mess. Why he had helped Morgana. But he wasn’t ready to tell. He couldn’t tell. Not yet. 

Merlin looked up at the window and waited for the day to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

The guard walking down the hall was not a knight for all he dressed as one. The creaking of his amour was a telltale sign of his rank- well-worn out of significance and the awe it inspired rather than actual duty. He was whistling a common tune, one that was heard regularly down in the lower village. His hair was a mess and he smelt of ale and sweat. He wiped his face with a dirty hand and sighed. Oh but was he tried and his headache so. But he had a job to do. The most important job in the castle besides that of his king. Even those knights did not live up to his job- not really, not for all the glory and honor they received. Sure they may go into battle and raise sword to enemy but he fought too and protected his king and castle just as well. If not better he would thing to himself. He protected all from the men and women who had been locked away. The knights brought the criminals here to his domain. They were cheered and celebrated, but then the task was forgotten, but people usually forgotten which meant that the threat they carried was in turn forgotten. But the bailiff kept the peace. He guarded his underground kingdom and made sure his “citizens” never left unless called upon. It was a hard job, but one he was proud of even if many people did not really see the honor he had the right to have. 

Stopping at the last cell on the first floor of the dungeon, he guard stopped and looked at the door. Every morning it was the same: keys out, door open, retrieve the person inside, and lead him to the kitchen then at night he was led back down, put away until the next day repeated itself. Of course, this was not regular person. The jailer knew this. This was a traitor to the throne of Camelot. An enemy to the king. A man who had blindsided all. Everyone knew the story- well everyone knew most of the story. No one really knew it all. 

As the guard unhooked his keys from his belt he wondered, not for this first time, why the man had been left to live. He was a danger. Yet the king was instance on his living. He had him serve. Of course the man had been a servant before and not just any servant but the king’s personal servant and if rumors were true- more. They called it a living death. And the guard thought it just so. He had seen how the young man was treated. Scorn, ignored, abused by those he once called friends and even those he did not. It must be hard, but then again, he supposed that was the nature of the punishment. He would have killed him were he the king, but alas, he was not. 

Pulling open the door he walked in. Merlin looked up at him and the jailer looked back. Not pleasantries were made. True, he had known Merlin before this. The boy had spent time in the cells before over little things. Though save for one time it had usually been to the king’s amusement more than actual time. In a year, the raven locks had grown past his chin and was kept tied up with a band of leather, his skin was pale as a whore’s bosom, and his figure skinny. 

“Up boy. The day’s wasting.” The jailer spoke and when Merlin was taking a slow time getting up for his bones ached from his sleeping accommodations and from runs in with some ruffians the guard grabbed his arm, and ignoring Merlin’s slight gasp of pain, pulled him up. The jailer caught sight of the jewel the boy sported in his arm ever since that day of battle long ago. He was mesmerized by the beauty of it. No one really knew what it was. Merlin would not say. Just as he would not say why he betrayed Arthur (though he swears he did not). Merlin pulled his sleeve down. 

Merlin followed behind the jailer, manacles on his wrist. He winced as they slipped on his too skinny of wrist and rubbed against the black veins leading down from the cursed ornament in his arm. Up and up they went from the dungeon to the kitchen. 

The cold damp air wrapped around him like a heavy coat of chain mail as he ascended the tight spiral staircase from the dungeons. In the absence of flaming torches the dimness gave the impression of twilight despite the heat and brilliance of the fall morning outside. Coming up to the top Merlin sighed. 

The castle was more ancient than any bone left in the soil. The once smooth rock is pitted and scarred. This old castle of the hill knew how fleeting time is, how soon the present becomes the past and the important becomes the irrelevant. Merlin thought of it as a hallowed and ancient site. He imagined the trees have seen the centuries blow past in the winds of each season and witnessed the folly of the castle long past. 

Her walls stand mute, water awaits the call of the wind to ruffle and move as molten glass of deepest green. Grey stone rose from the land, unapologetic and bold to defy entrance and protect what has been entrusted to their care. Below the uneven patches of grass are arrowheads of old, hilts of broken swords and armor that failed to protect. Merlin dared hope another battle would not come for many years.

Beneath the chorus of the birds he heard the voices of old, the clash of metal on metal and the pounding of horse’s hooves. He stood where knights stood, saw what kings, dukes and peasants saw. In this bright light, were it not for the tell tale signs of weathering, it could be almost any century in the past seven hundred years.

The servants were coming awake too and Merlin could hear the clamors of errand boys and girls going about their jobs. He could smell the ash being swept from the chimneys and it made his nose twitch. The jailer finally stopped at the kitchen entrance. 

Merlin’s first job of the day would be serving in the hall. He hopped he could finish the task before anyone came in to eat, but he doubted that Camelia would allow it. The girl in question meet him at the door as we perusal and Merlin was relieved of his bonds. She was a servant too, but her position as being the one to watch Merlin put the food on and making sure he did not poison it made the power of the job go to her head. She sneered at Merlin. 

“Hurry up, turncoat,” she spat and loaded Merlin’s arms with food that he would set on each plate, “we are already running behind. The court will sit soon.”

I hope not soon enough, Merlin thought following her out of the kitchen and away from hard looks. He could not wait to be released to go to Gaius and prayed he would not see Arthur or anyone else today. 

Merlin entered the great hall and as each time as he did before, a pang went through him. Sunlight glistened through the windows and thought it was beginning to turn fall, the windows were thrown open to let in crisp air. The celling raised ever up and up and banners of the Pendragon crest hung from the rafters. In the middle of the lofty room sat the round table which was were the breakfast would be served. Twelve seats where there had once been thirteen. It was a round table the size of a cartwheel made of rough wood. Around the circumference were rocks from every corner of the land set into the wood.

After the breakfast the table would be moved more to the left, still seen, but out of the way for people coming to court to visit the king. Behind Merlin the throne of the king stood. Uther had once had the throne raised on a dais, but since becoming king, Arthur had knocked out the platform and made it so he ruled from an even playing field with those who came to see him. 

Camelia harrumphed and Merlin set to work. Looking at the spread on his platter his stomach growled with pain. The yellow fluffy eggs beckoned him, and the ham fresh cut from a boar sung to him, his mouth water at the sight of the brown cider. He was hungry, oh so hungry. But he wouldn’t get to eat a morsel until Gaius and even then if only he was lucky if no one was there. 

Table tops layered with trays of the most delicious food and drinks lined the walls, delicacies capable of making one's mouth water: a whole roast deer with sprigs of rosemary threaded through its antlers and stuffed with bacon and rye bread, marinated Glenloth chicken, grilled trout with lemon, smoked sausages and a glazed ham, mounds of fragrant wild rice, potatoes and diced pumpkin smeared with butter and spices baked on hot stones, eggs whipped bright yellow, and hot biscuits. 

He had just sat down the last of the food when he heard the trumpet of the harled loud and clear. The Knights of the Table were here. They filled in one at a time and took their seats. They left one open at the front and center for the king. Merlin gulped as they sat and inched back hopping they wouldn’t see him. Of course, he looked at them too as he did so. He was not afraid of them- well not all of them. 

“Merlin, my friend. Come here.” Leon called to him. All the knights turned to look at him as one. Merlin took a breath and walked over. He could take their abuse but he could not take where they made it seems as if Merlin never existed or was never their friend. He could take it. He could, really. It had hurt no one had believed him when he said he could not tell why he was with Morgana that day. It really had, but he had to live with it know while he tried to make sense of the truth so he could tell the truth. Maybe then...

“How are you today, Merlin?” Leon asked setting his chin in his hand and looking for all the world genuine. 

Merlin couldn’t meet his eye, “okay.”

“What was that Merlin?” Leon asked leaning forward and looking at his brothers who were either watch the conflict or ignoring it all together, “We did not hear you.”

Merlin licked his lips and looked around the table. Gawine was busy messing with the grapes on his plate not meeting Merlin’s eye. Percival was watching Merlin was interest and knocking his elbow at Leon. Lancelot was looking at him- the only one who really seemed to be looking at him. 

“I said I was okay,” Merlin said again. And right then his stomach rumbled. 

Half the tabled laugh and not in a friendly jest. Perivale held out a biscuit dripping with honey and waved it under Merlin’s nose. Merlin grew hungrier and knew they could see it. The knight smiled almost kindly, “Here Merlin,” the big man said, “Have some.” 

Merlin knew he shouldn’t do it. He knew it, but hunger won out. He reached out for this biscuit. He forwent all manners and ripped off a nice size chunk of the bread. Then he went from standing to on the floor. Someone kicked him in his side. Then he felt spit land on his face. 

He looked up and into the eyes of Mcgragor. “Did you really think we were going to share our food with you boy?” He placed a plate on the floor and then, with flourish spit his food he was chewing onto the plate. “You eat from the trash.”

Merlin looked at the “trash” and then up at the table. The room was quite. Servant and knight alike held their breath. Some were looking on and others looked away as if they could not be bothered. Most of those were his brothers, his friends. Well, they once were. 

“Go on boy!” another kick to his side. 

“Enough.”

Lancelot came around the table and pulled Merlin up from his position on the floor. The knight looked around, “This is not how knights act.” He said, “Even to the enemy.” 

Merlin looked up at Lancelot. The man who knew too much. One of the reasons Merlin heart was bruise and battered. Lancelot usually ignored Merlin as if he was just the wind. It hurt worse the kicks and being made to eat trash.

“You taking his side now, Lancelot.” Someone called. Lancelot did not look at Merlin, but Merlin saw something take place on his face. Something that wasn’t there before but went away just as fast. Not looking at Merlin Lancelot released him as if he was burned. He stalked away. “Go to the kitchen.”   
Merlin stood there. His fist balled. He was about to say something. Anything. Mcgragor picked up the plate of trash. Pushing it towards Merlin. “Don’t forget your breakfast.” He threw the plate and with a splash it landed on Merlin’s shirt. Merlin choked back a sound. Looking at the knights he stepped forward, but saw, with a lot of doubt as to what he was seeing, Lancelot barely shaking his head no. 

Merlin bruised and now dirty, took a step back towards the kitchen, but before he could flee his tormenters, the horn sounded once again. This time there was two long blows. The king had come.


	3. chapter 4

Like its namesake the King chess piece was, for all its worth, the most grandiose piece on the board. The board was the kingdom and the knight, the rook, and all other assembles his people of the court. Upon his mantle the king not only carried the weight of the whole realm on his shoulders but other’s looked to him before making their move. The king, like the chess piece could be worn thin from use. Under the once fresh painted exterior coat which was slowly peeling away to show in turn the dimming shadow of the mortality of age.  Once golden locks seemed to be casted in a hue of color not unlike that of a setting sun on a cloudy day. His face once gay with care free woes was now grim and masked. His body hunched. But he still held about him the aura of command and control. The knights gathered in the hall and those of lesser status quo gazed upon him as Arthur stepped into the room. The crown sitting atop his head looking down upon them.

                He stopped at the round table and then without ceremony sat in his chair. He looked around the room at the knights and servants.  He looked at Merlin and at McGregor. Reaching to his plate he took a hunk of bread and tore off a piece. Crumbs landed on his shirt and table. He waved his hands, “Come. Eat.” He announced. “McGregor stop playing with the refuse and do as your king request.”

                The knight in answer sneered at Merlin and gave him a little push. Merlin held his breath. He was just starting to turn to make it back to the kitchen. Back to sanctuary when Sir Kay rapped his hand on the table, “Boy, your king’s tankard is empty come fill it.”

                Lancelot hissed and Gwaine looked up from his plate. His eyes shadowed. Everyone knew that interactions between Merlin and Arthur were few and far between. When they were sharing the same room both went out of the way to avoid each other. Merlin for sake of pain and more over safety of the king and for Arthur, well that remained up to the people. Some said he avoided him because it was too painful, some said he did because his anger was so great, others said he never cared about the servant more then he should.  Others just enjoyed the show.

                And oh, what a show it was.

                With shaking hands, Merlin picked up the pitcher from the side board and reluctantly walked over to the king. He stood there body shaking, heart racing, and feeling overall numb. It was as if his whole life force had been sucked out of him leaving him an empty shell. He would not-could not-meet Arthur’s eyes thought he felt their hot penetrating gaze.

                “Bow boy and look at your king. He deserves your respect thought it’s a question if you have any,” Kay said and Merlin obeyed.

                Blue eyes meet green. Then Merlin felt himself falling, falling and falling into memory. The last time he had looked upon those eyes had been when Arthur stood by and watched him thrashed with a horse hair whip whilst the bailiff tried to get answers from him.

                _Merlin kneels down on the coarse sand floor. His breathing labored, he waits for the whip to fall once more. A rope is tied around his neck and tethered to a post. It cuts his neck and rubs skin raw. He feels the red hot pain. Biting his lip to keep from crying out, he tells himself that it will be over soon. It must. It has to. Either that or he will die._

 _The lash cracks as it is drawn back, then heat._ _From deep inside Merlin’s chest, through every cell of his body body, the warmth welcomed him like an old friend. But it was strange, because he never felt that way before. But it reminded him he was alive. He has to stay alive._

_“What is the stone upon your wrist?” the jailer ask again._

_Merlin looks behind him even though his body aches at the protest. He tastes blood upon his lip. Salty but full of iron. Iron is strong and he himself must be strong._

_“I can’t say. You must believe me. If I do something horrible will happen.”_

_“Why did you betray you king?”_

_“I never wanted to. I had no choice. Please, release me. I can’t tell you why or why the stone upon me is a secret. You must trust me. I must figure things out. Then- then I can tell.”_

_Crack_

_Crack_

_Crack_

_Tears stream down Merlin’s face. It is too much, the pain. He yells. He whimpers. Finally the word stop is said. Merlin slides to the floor. Hoping he is dead and afraid he may be. Blood coats his back like a second skin. He feels it, smells it. He turns his face up when a pair of boots stop by him. He feels a tug and his hands are released from the pole. He looks up. Arthur stands in front of him._

_They meet eyes. Merlin shakes his head. Arthur’s face is void of anything. “Please, Arthur. Sire. Believe me I can’t tell you. If I did. I love you. I do. Please let me go. I’ll explain when I can. Trust me. I know how it seems. Please-“_

_Arthur holds up and hand. He reaches out then draws it back. He turns about. Merlin reaches out to him. The Warden slams Merlin to the ground. He orders men to take him to his cell. Merlin cries Arthur’s name but the King walks away._

                “Sire,” Merlin whispered and presented the pitcher. King and servant looked at one another.  He heard the buzz of quite behind him. He felt Kay’s hand hard on his shoulder. He winced in pain. It had been almost a year since the flogging but the shadow of the scars still were there.

                Suddenly the king stood. Breakfast and cup forgotten. “Enough,” he said. “Back to the kitchen.” This he said to the servants. The whole court looked at him. He looked away from Merlin and stalked for the door. “I am not hungry. Come we have practices to run through. “

                Merlin watched with heavy eyes as Arthur left him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my readers. I hope you enjoyed a surprise early chapter. Now, if you haven’t subscribed (followed/favorited) me you may want to as tomorrow I’m posting a super special story that takes place before this story. Maybe that scene of Arthur and Merlin before the battle?   
> Thanks!!


	4. chapter 4

                Merlin kept imagining the same thing over again as he walked, a paradise being taken apart at its will. He kept seeing the ghost of what once was in the halls. The echo of laughter and happiness he once had. The organization of an entire kingdom of once was being ripped apart piece by piece. What is this place you ask?

                This place, it’s was his mind.

                The chaos of the kitchen washed over him as he was once again met with a guard. Tied by the wrist and frog marched into the castle halls.  The whole kingdom was in an uproar for the arrival of the Prince of the east as the people were to call him. Merlin had caught snippets of the news here and there each day. From across the desert to the east a prince was to come and eat at the King’s table. Merlin had of course knew about this for a year. He had been there when Arthur had begun corresponding with the man and had been there before the battle when it had been assured a meeting would take place.  He was to even act as a personal servant to the Prince- an honor to be sure- but that was then and this was now.

                His heart ached and his mind burned with the image of Arthur staring down at him while Merlin held the pitcher. Of the plain look of disinterest he had shown and the bark of dismissal. He shudder at the memory that had been drawn up from the contact. His back a stinging reminder. The guard prodded him forward with his hand. Merlin descend the stairs ignoring the looks being cast upon him.

                Merlin’s entire conscience was being torn out of place, and being tortured until it bleed out and gave up. That was the only way he could describe the numbness that came over him day after day. Before he had let the words and actions of those he once called brother and friend get to him. He had cried until he could cry no more. He hurt himself until he could bleed not more without passing out. This numbing feeling- It was his defense.

But this is purgatory. One of his own making. There was nothing here except merlin- the victim. And his brain and emotions and actions- the murderer. The torturer. The sinner. Death. That was all him. Never mind the fact that each time Arthur looked at him or ignored him a lance went through his heart.

                Merlin was startled when the knight yanked him back and Merlin stumbled to a halt outside Gaius’ door. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had failed to notice he had tracked through the castle and outside the stretch the court yard and to the other part of the castle.  The guard knocked on the door and it opened. Gaius peered out and opened the door to receive Merlin.  

                “Someone will be back to collect the prisoner two bells earlier then before.  The King’s guest will be arriving and the king as no whish for him to be seen.”

                Gaius let out a faint snort, “Yes, yes. I’ll but the prisoner right to work you can bet on that.”

                The guard nodded then left and Gaius let Merlin inside.  As soon as the door was closed, the old man turned to Merlin and frowned at Merlin’s wrist. “Why the go through the trouble of tying you up, my boy I will never know.” Gaius untied Merlin from his bound and he tisked at the redness of Merlin’s wrist.   

                “It’s to protect Arthur,” Merlin said as Guais applied cream to Merlin’s wound.

                “It’s folly I say. Why you not more would hurt Arthur then I would. “ Gaius said then looked at Merlin sadly, “But then again they don’t know that do they?”

Once the cream was applied Guais sat them down at the table and bought them both over porridge from the fire. Merlin’s stomach grumbled in thanks and he set to eating. Gaius was one of the two people who was kind to Merlin and who believed him and treated him like nothing had change. Then again Guais was the only one who really knew the truth. Merlin of course couldn’t tell Arthur or anyone else. If he did he would die a most certain death and so would Arthur, but the person who controlled him, per say, had not thought of the fact Merlin could transfer his memory of the event over to another person of magic. Sadly, Arthur was not magic and sadly magic was still not allowed in Camelot.

                Merlin sighed and looked down at his wrist. The stone pulsed in his skin and itched. He longed to dislodge it but could not and did not know how without causing the magic that he was bound to awaken and take action.  

                “I have found something on the stone, Merlin.” Gaius said to him and dragged a book over to them that was perched on the end of the table.

                “we know that if we try to remove it or if you try to tell Arthur or anyone of court verbally or another way what had transpired between you and morgana down in that cave the power of that stone will unleash. If the power unleashes and the power of the spell from the amulet with kill Arthur.

                “We know you had unknowingly attached your spirt with Arthur’s before the battle. When the stone was imbedded into your skin it awoken a magic string, for lack of better words, and when you touched Arthur it bounded your magic to him. We also know that Morgana can at any time activate the magic she placed in the stone and there for use it to her own will. So you would become her living vessel while she is locked away. The only question is why hasn’t she acted and why go through all this trouble when she could have the king killed with any other means or for that matter just let you tell Arthur what happened.”

                “I take it you have an answer, “Merlin whispered shaking off the feeling of dread he always got when he thought of the fact he held Arthur’s life in his hands.

                “The stone is draining your magic and your life Merlin. Slowly, but it is killing you. I fear Morgan’s plan is to harness your power into that stone. She placed it in you with magic so complex it enables you from telling the truth and because of that it is acting as a safe act because she knows you would never put Arthur in danger. If you did and he died for it you would die yourself from heart break. But in keeping you alive, she drains your life, your power and in that she can make it and shape if and add it to her own. She has the most powerful dark magic while you have the most powerful light magic and as it drains from you and your life drains from you into that stone, she can take your magic from you and change it to dark. In doing so, she would be unstoppable. Then, I think, her plan is too not only take over Camelot but farther then that. And too have Arthur watch as she takes everything away and have him live with the truth of what happened to you and how he acted towards you.”

                Merlin felt his self-pale, “What are we going to do..”

                Gaius shook his head, “I do not know. We are stuck in between a rock and a hard place.”

                Before Merlin could answer the door opened and a blur raced through the room right for Merlin and attacked him…


	5. Note

 

Having some life/ pet problems so will be updating the 6th of may if not sooner. sorry for the delay.


	6. chapter 6

               Black curly hair engulfed Merlin’s sight and the smell of lilac and lavender filled his nose. He was being attacked not by a murderer or monster of any kind. He was in fact being attacked by one Gwendolyn or Gwen as she was called by loved ones. She pulled back from her attack hug, tears making her eyes shine and Merlin could not help but smile at her. In all this hell and turmoil, Gwen was one, out of not even a handful (or even a three finger count) who had stuck by Merlin. Of course, the court had something to say about that. Where once a blacksmith’s daughter and handmaiden to Lady Morgana had walked the halls of Camelot and sat in on court, where once a lady who all thought the king would marry despite social standings was now shunned from court life and apart of much gossip. And her relishing in Arthur’s friendship? Well, the king had not truly spoken to his onetime friend since she raged at him on Merlin’s behalf.  For that Merlin felt heavy in his heart.

 

               “Oh I heard what the foul creatures did to you this morning!” Gwen said when she had regain composer.  “They humble themselves knights?” Gwen snorted, “A cockroach would make better.”

               Gaius placed steeple hands on the table top. He had stayed quite through Gwen’s entrance and now raised a brow. “What happened this morning, Merlin?”

               Before Merlin could deflect the question however, Gwen turned to the old man and began explaining how the knights had treated Merlin no better than a mutt, and how Arthur had not even lifted a finger to stop it when Merlin had been at his feet. How he had dismissed Merlin with such detachment it was scandal.

               “What do you expect Gwen?” Merlin shrugged, “I don’t expect anything different. In their eyes I did the unthinkable.”

               “But you didn’t,” Gwen held his hand and shook her head so part of her black hair came loose from atop her head and played against his cheek, “We all know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. You would never do that to Arthur. To this kingdom. These people.”  

               “Yet we both know I can’t tell them differently. You don’t even know the truth, Gwen.”

               Gwen sighed. They had been over this a dozen times, “Your right. I don’t. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you were that witch. I don’t know a lot about that day like everyone else. But I do know you would never betray Arthur, your friends, this kingdom. Not willingly. Whatever happened to you was the sole reason behind that. I trust you. I trust there is a reason you can’t tell us. I trust that the time will come when you can, and when that day comes. Arthur and everyone else will feel a fool.”

               Merlin smiled. Gaius arose from his chair with a heavy breath and his bones creaking. He looked at Merlin and Merlin knew their conversation from earlier was far from over. “I have a few things for you to do Merlin that way the guard don’t come calling and Gwen it would be best if you left now. You’re already in hot water for sticking up for Merlin and if they knew you were here now they could pin it for plotting with a traitor.”

               “Yes, Gaius.” Said Gwen with a frown, “I’ll come back before you leave tonight Merlin.” She gave her friend a hug and gave the older man a kiss on the cheek. Then left. Merlin stood when the door closed.

               “What am I doing today? Scrubbing floors? Pickling eyeballs? Chopping roots?”

               Gaius knew well enough Merlin did not want to discuss his predicament at the moment and would resume the heavy conversation latter. He went over to the fire place and grabbed a woven basket. He did not find joy in assigning Merlin this chore, but he had no choice. He could not do it himself anymore. He was getting to old to wonder the fields and to bend at the waist seeing and picking flowers. He handed Merlin the basket. “No, my boy. I need you to go out to the field behind my rooms and pick me calendula. You may know them as Marigold petals.  I would go myself, but I find I cannot anymore with this body. The field is close enough you won’t need to have a guard with you, but I’m afraid people cross by all the time so you may run into some _pleasantries_. “

               Both he and Merlin knew that were anything but. Merlin took the basket. He could deal with the people. He could. And besides the fresh air and sun may help him forget the doom laying over his like a heavy and unwanted blanket. Much unwanted indeed. Taking the basket, Merlin went out the door and down a little hall and up some steps and then took the door to the outside. He blinked in the bright sunlight and stood for a moment in the warming air. He felt his shoulder relax and he took a deep breath. He looked around and the rolling green hills before him. He could hear the clank and mummer of the town on the other side of the wall to his right. A fence was and a small wall was all that was between him and people. On his other side ran the castle walls and up a little hill wound the courtyards of the castle. But before him was nothing but freedom.

               The thought of running entered Merlin’s mind for a brief of a seconds. He could run away through the trees. He knew the forest better than most. He could hide when they would come looking the keep running until he was somewhere new. It was a thought and one he shook from his head with vigor. No. He couldn’t run. What use would it be? He would die or be found. Not that it seemed to be much difference here. He would end up dying here too it seemed. Merlin looked at the stone in his arm and scowled at it. His magic was draining. He shouldn’t be surprised. He had known it had been. At least knew in the back of his mind. He had been feeling cold of late and not the kind one felt in winter, but a hollow and deep type of cold. One that seemed to suck the soul from you.  But no. If he left he would be leaving Arthur too. He thought back to this morning. Of Arthur’s cold eyes. Of how the light that once that shone from them had been gone. He had caused that. He had caused Arthur all this pain. And for what? To protect Arthur from pain. Merlin snorted. It was ironic really.

               Merlin reached down the front of his shirt and withdrew as piece of leather string. Attached to it was a pendent of a dragon. Arthur had given it to him that day before all had broken. He recalled Arthur’s nervous words, his flurried actions and most of all the kiss. The sweet and chaste kiss. The words of love. Merlin wiped his eyes. He had begun to cry as he always did when thinking of that moment. Now, he would never get to say it again. He would never get to make a future with Arthur. He would never- well he would never get to do a lot of things it seemed.

               Merlin looked down. His basket was half filled and he decided it would most likely be enough.  He had just dropped once last petal in the basket when he heard a snap of a twig. The sound he knew was too loud to be that of a deer or another animal. No, it had been human. He knew with a heart dropping it was not Gwen or Gaius. That meant it could only be one out of a thousand tormenters. He knew he couldn’t be too badly hurt because Gaius could see him from his rooms- if he was looking at Merlin at the moment which Merlin was sure he was on and off. He even hoped it might be his guard. But that was unlikely they usually never bothered if he was with Gaius. He had been out here many times and not once had they ever come to stand guard.

               Merlin slowly turned and looked behind him. He licked his lips. Standing before him was Lancelot Du Lake. Once Merlin’s friend and one of the keepers of his secret of magic. His friend and almost brother. One of the many knights who had turned against him. Though through the two years it had only been the silent treatment thus far. Merlin had a flash of memory from this morning when Lancelot had shaken his head at Merlin when Merlin was going to refuse to obey.  The enchanter watched the raven hard Spanish knight walk over to him. Merlin did not know if he should run or stay his ground. He was no coward of course. So Merlin stayed.

               Lancelot was close enough Merlin could see his friend had seem to shrink into himself in the past year. Shadows were drawn under his eyes and his skin, once bright with the Spanish sun, was dull. His brown eyes were lacking any luster. Merlin stepped back a foot. He licked is lips. His mind trying to settle on what to do or to say. Of course, he was saved from doing anything, as he got another surprise this morning.

               Lancelot went down to his knees. Drew his sword and laid it upon his lap. His head bowed low to the ground. All the while he was repeating, like a mantra, “Forgive me. I am sorry. Forgive me. I am sorry.”

 

**Hello! Sorry for the two week wait. One I had to prepare for Easter and last weekend I had to take my boy rats to the vet as they were sick! They are doing okay now though. Now, I wrote a longer chapter this week because next Saturday is my sister’s birthday and I won’t be at work so I can’t upload a new chapter, but on May 20 th I am uploading not just one but TWO LONG chapters to celebrate my readers and as a thank you for staying with me as I sort some stuff out!**

**Thank for all the reviews. Keep them coming!**


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin looked at Lancelot. He really, really looked at him and found the situation ironic, sad, but ironic. Not even a year ago it had been Merlin who had been begging and apologizing and for something he had no control over, and here was one of the bravest knights behind Arthur, king of Camelot, on his knees begging. Merlin pulled his hand away from Lancelot and brown eyes meet blue.

 

"You expect me to accept your apology when you did not even stop to consider mine?"

Lancelot's eyes gleamed bright with unshod tears, "I was wrong. So wrong. I failed not only as a friend but as a knight. I was quick to judge and commit and did not listen. I knew, I should have known you would never betray Arthur or any of us. Not willing. I should have accepted the fact you said you could not speak that which you said you could not. But I did not. I stood by, we all stood by, and let you suffer. When we should have stood by you from the beginning."

Merlin's balled his fist and his knuckles went white from clenching too hard. Merlin felt his jaw bone creak with tension and his teeth start to chatter from the force he was using to keep quiet. His shoulders hunched from a slow and cold burning animosity. It was like acid\- burning, sizzling, slicing and potent. He usually never felt anger and never rose to it, but he felt he couldn't really blame himself for when he snapped\- and snap he did just like his heart had a year ago. "In all my life I have give my trust and my utmost care and love to all of you. I have protected Arthur time and time again\- and you know how. I trusted all of you. Stuck my neck out for all of you. I trusted each one of you with the same yet different parts of my very own heart. You!"

Merlin kept his voice even but to Lancelot it was like a very cold knife cutting him. "You were one of the people who knew the secret I kept and why. I trusted you. "Then\- then when I needed you all the most. When it was my turn to need saving, and care, and the same trust\- you all abandoned me! Yet there came a time when the pain within overwhelmed and only tears came, when my body itself refused to live, began to say "no." Food would not pass my lips and sleep was fleeting. On little to no sustenance and a mind tired, I searched for help from those I loved. From all of you.

"For any friend in pain I have always run toward them, helped as much as possible. Yet in my time of the greatest need I lost near everyone I ever loved \- family and friends who meant just as much. I bled emotionally, shaking at times. I watched you all come and go. I watched Arthur come and go. I thought each time one of you came to me in that pit of hell I was finally believed. I would be saved, You would somehow help despite the fact I could not speak a word. But instead you hauled me like a lump of horse shit to be beaten and yelled and cursed at. You sentenced me to hell on earth.

"Abandonment is a betrayal. It is a burning of the soul. It is a dusty hot road on which the mind and body wither. I had lost the one I had loved the most in the world, the one who had kept me stable over more than half my life-time. I lost Arthur and my friends. I cried, 'I am sorry. I am sorry' over and over again, but not one of you heard. I was not the one that betrayed you\- it was all of you who betrayed me. so why, why should I accept you apology when you did not even consider mine?"

Lancelot's tears flowed down his face. He reached out not quite touching Merlin. "I know. Oh how I know and I am sorry. I know the words do not mean much. I know how much we have hurt you. How much I, myself, have hurt you. We should have listened and protected you. Arthur he, I know what he did, I know, but you must know the king misses you. It tore him apart. It still is. He was clouded with love and duty and honor and he messed up. I should have stood for you. I-"

Merlin waved his hand, cutting the night off. "Don't speak to me of how the King feels. He can tell me himself if he wishes. Thought I do not know if I would listen. No. I don't forgive you. I don't forgive you for what any of you did, but I might\- and it is a very small might\- might one day accept you came here to offer your words. I may open my heart again to you one day. But for now," Merlin whispered, "for now we can have a simple agreement of understanding. Who knows, you may be help in the future. There is danger coming and it is a danger to Arthur."

Just then the bells rang out in a sharp peal.

Boom-boom-boom!

Causing both men to turn to the west to the bell towers. A single raven took to the sky as the sound scared it off. This was followed by a bang as the door to the garden banged open and the guard that escorted Merlin filled the doorway. He took four huge steps before looming in from of Merlin. Guais filled the door was his eyes flashing worry then surprise at seeing Lancelot before settling into a mask.

The guard looked at Lancelot, "Du-lake fancy seeing you here. Have you come to give the turn coat some lessons?" Lancelot ignored the question, "Why have the bells rung?" The guard grimaced and spat, "That witch whore. She's escaped." He turned to Merlin whose stomach dropped to his feet in dread. "The king request an audiance. He roughly grabbed Merlin's arm and L

ancelot in turn put his hand on the guard, "I shall escort him to the king."

The guard paused but then nodded, "As you say captain."

"Come Merlin," Lancelot whispered, and Merlin tried to stop the warmth in his heart from flickering to life at the sound of an old friend's voice. Lancelot was still after once of the swords that had stabbed Merlin in the heart and he would not forgive so easily. He shook of any thoughts of strange situation and he was navigated through the halls to the throne room to speak with Arthur the first time in a year.

HI! Hope you liked the chapter! Thanks everyone who gave love to the story while I was in the hospital


	8. chapter 8

What a dark and terrible thing it is- to be a prisoner.  It is like an ever present shadow pressing down on you but there is no sun to reflect upon you. No warmth, no sweet taste of independence, and no freedom. Just a horrible aching in the gut and of course Merlin was used to this feeling. He had been, after all, a prisoner for almost a year. He learned to live with it. It had been a constant in his life- a routine. But today, well today had taken all that he had grown used to and balled it up, shook it, turned it on its head and exploded.

He not only learned he was dying but that his magic was being drained by an evil witch. That he was powerless to stop it. That with his death so too would Camelot fall and with her its king. There was also Lancelot’s apology to think about. Of course, Merlin wouldn’t forgive and forget right away as was it right. His friends and his family betrayed him. Sure this events that took place were questiable and Merlin understood that there was be suspsion, anger, but to not even for a moment take Merlin for his word that he couldn’t tell. To lock in in a cell for a year and cut him off from everything and everyone he knew, well it was almost unforgivable. Almost.

The young warlock knew he could use an alley. He had Gaius and Gwen, yes. But he needed someone who could watch Arthur where they couldn’t and Lancelot was his best bet at such a thing. He knew some would question his devotion to Arthur after all he done. Others in his place would hate the king, scorn him, forget about him all together and Merlin tried to forget but he couldn’t. Deep down Arthur was still in a way his charge and he the guardian. He was born to protect and serve Arthur and Merlin never was one to shy away from duty even if that said charge was the constant for his never ending heart break.

Merlin had over the months built a wall of sorts of mask. From these mask he would look out upon the world and not feel a thing. He no more felt his heart breaking from Arthur, or the sadness that once threaten to engulf him, he felt little anger at his king, as for the matters of the heart, well that Merlin masked entirely. So when he looked upon the king he looked back with the same taciturnity and apathy that the King mirrored to him. He would still strive to his destiny but Arthur had turned into nothing more than that- a job.

So it was this in mind, and all the other revelations of that morning and the itch of needing a said alley in Lancelot, that circled Merlin’s head as he was bound wrist to ankle in the middle of the Throne room facing his king and his ultimate betrayer.  

There was something about King that drew people to him. It didn't hurt that he was a good looking man; but it was more than that. He was quiet, but not out of painful shyness. It was a reservedness, like a conscious choice to observe the lie of the land before he got involved. Yet he wasn't stand-offish, his face was welcoming in body posture. It wasn't like he sat down one day and planned to be like that, it's just the way he was. Where his body was lean with years of training with sword and fist there was nothing threatening about him, He was eager to make friends and peace but knew when to act for the sake of his kingdom. He was an easy listener, a good audience- at times of course he could show the Pendragon stubbornness of his forefathers. He worked hard, he got his work done.

But there was side most did not see of King Arthur that was left for those who was a danger to his home and people. It was a side reserved when he was wronged. It was Merlin who was viewing this side now.

Arthur was staring out a window and had yet to turn around despite that ten minutes had passed since Lancelot had deposited Merlin into the room. Merlin watched the floor breathing in and out. His heart squeezed with anxiety and sadness but he pushed it away. Drew up his mask.

“The enchantress, Morgan Ley Fey Pendragon, has escaped from the cells below this very room. The guard made his rounds an hour after we, the knights and I, were served our morning meal. Her cell was empty, but the door was not open, the window undisturbed. It was as if not one had been in there at all. I called a search of the grounds and of the surrounding villages, countryside and forest within twenty miles. There is no trace of her.”

Arthur Pendragon turned to Merlin and for the first time in a year locked eyes with his one-time servant, friend, and love. Merlin did not look away but stared deep into the green eyes of his king. Once he would have poured his whole soul into his eyes for Arthur to see but not now and it seemed the king had learned the same trick as Merlin.

Arthur walked away from the window and came to stand before Merlin looking down at him. Gone was the smile and bright eyes. In their place was shadowy eyes and a forlorn face. Arthur’s hand rested of Excalibur’s handle. He had called the guards to leave when Merlin had been bought it. Would he use the sword on Merlin if given the chance Merlin wasn’t sure and he knew he wasn’t sure if it would be a welcome or not.

“You were delivered to the kitchen ten minutes before the food would be served and set and fifteen before I and the knights would enter to eat. “

The unasked question hung in the air. Merlin looked down at the floor. He was captive as always by the tiles of red and gold that were set just so to make a dragon in a sea of white. Merlin licked his lips, and spoke to his King for this first in many, many moon turns, “You think I helped her escape.”

The king did not say a thing but watched Merlin. Merlin shook his head and looked back at Arthur, “How could I help Morgana escape if I was locked in cell all night for the past year?”

Arthur drew his sword and Merlin did not flinch. He watched the blade flash in the sun. The handle was solid gold said to have been crafted from the fire of a dragon if one were to believe the tale- and of course it was true.  The ruby of course set in the loop of the handle winked at Merlin and bathed his face in red like blood. The sight was just enough Merlin saw a subtly chance in Arthur’s demeanor- the King’s face seemed troubled and broken for a second but was gone before Merlin could question it or even know if it was truly there.  

So, Merlin thought. This was it. He was to die by Arthur’s sword. Of course he hadn’t been able to even say his piece, not that Arthur or anyone would believe him. He would die, not by Morgan’s hand or magic, but by the very person who she conducted this corium for. He wondered if Morgana would still get his magic if his death would happen this way. Then Merlin was struck with a thought, if Arthur killed him would he too get hurt in the process? He and Gaius knew that if Merlin told anyone, king or court, of what really happened Arthur would die and Camelot would fall and Merlin would be left knowing it was his fault. Where if he died by the stone and Morgana’s hands, he would of course still be dead, but Arthur would be alive and given a chance to face Morgan with Merlin’s magic added to hers. Of course, he would know the real truth by then, but Merlin did not know if that would even make a difference.

Of course he did not have to worry as Arthur used the blade only to unbound Merlin’s wrist. Merlin felt shock pass over him until he left the cold blade on his forearm pushing the sleeve of his tunic up showing the stone.  

“We have reason to believe _this_ may know where she is. That you have an idea of where she is.”

“I don’t,” Merlin said looking down at the stone in his arm. He could feel the dark magic in the stone. Feel the ugliness of it. Could the stone lead him to Morgana? What is this was her idea all along. “But you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

“Would you believe a traitor?”

Merlin couldn’t answer that for he was looking at a traitor himself.

“Do you know where your accomplish is?” The king asked again.

Merlin was saved from as his body seized and he saw his vision become black as night. He lurched forward and feel to the ground and began to shake. He was dimly aware of hands on him, voices yelling, and someone whispering his name.

 _I lurk...under the veil...of black. Mist... lingers… it conceals my dark desire...while I wait. I will be sated...for in my sight...looms ...despair._  
  
In my dwelling... I plans. Taking solace...the forest around me... I waits ...not for long. The very cave that shelters me will soon… become...her...castle  
  
My  fingers stroke the air. Pulling. Pulling in the thread of white…of magic. I have taken half…it will almost be all of mine in two fortnights. I feels the power in me growing…the white magic it wrestles with the dark magic...

 __  
His wails feed my soul. I grow strong...as he...grows weak. I gnaw… at his heart… and mind. I feast …on the betrayal he has felt.. . I can see his own ghastly end...and I shall rise from his ashes.  
  
When I rise…and he be dead…I shall strike like a snake…I will reveal my plan so...that they may feel what they had done to me….then all will be mine…lead them to me...come to me..

Merlin opens his eyes. He laying on the floor on the throne room. Surrounded by knights and the King. Swords are pointed at him and Arthur is knelling in front of him. His eyes wide looking like the young boy Merlin had met all those years ago. Without thinking, Merlin reaches out and clasped Arthur’s hands in his, “I know. I know where she is.”

Arthur for a second holds Merlin’s hand in his own. He looks like he is about to say something, but his face closes up once more and he rips his hands from Merlin’s. The two men look at one another.

“You will lead us to her. It is unclear if her magic is in your veins and because of that I have no choice but to put into action _Legătura magică._ Put the shakle on him and get him to Guais. We will ride at dawn.”

Merlin whisperd, `and If I chose not to go?”

The king looked at the warlock in Lancelot’s arms, ” If you go and we previal, I will stike you a deal that may grant you your freedon in exile.”

”I would rather be dead,” Merlin answerd. ‚’”isn’t that what you want, sire?”

Merlin did not know why he was acting like this. If he went then he could find a way to not only save Arthur and Camelot but himself. Maybe he did whish to be dead. Maybe he did want Arthur to hurt just some. Maybe for a moment he whished he could go back to that time in the tent before this happend. There were alot of maybe’s. Then there was the fact he could now feel that his magic was leaving him. It was as if a cover had been taken off his body and he could feel the deep coldness with in him. He knew he was dying he could feel it now. Morgan must have done somthing or somthing must have broke with in him for him not only able to see morgana in the vision but to now be able to feel his magic leaving him. He was afraid, not for his life, but if he had no magic how would he stop Morgana?

 

”I- ’”Arthur begun then made a noise in this throat and stalked off leaving Lancelot to take Merlin to Guais.

 

**Thanks for all the reviews and suport. Here is a new chapter for you!**

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to review


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